I read the news today...

... Oh boys......

I'm finding it hard to write at the moment.

I have friends out there now, right now. The man I love was out there twice. He came home, these 5 didn't, 6 of their mates are being flown back to Selly Oak for treatment. We were lucky, we saw Rich on the day he died, he told us he loved us, we knew he loved us, that we were what he thought about. The families of these boys, or of the EOD boy last week, didn't have that joy. Their man was far away.

I haven't heard from the She-Ex for a couple of weeks now. Part of me minds, because it's very rude just to not answer when she started the email. PArt of me knows BG isn't seeing the blogs. I think her mother will just try and complete the whitewashing of her father out of her life. She started that when she left here in the way she did, when it wasn't the best option for the child, and she has open rein to complete it now. I chose not to contest for the pension, because I felt BG needed it more than AC did. I know she doesn't know that, but I do. She's welcome to it. One day I'll tell BG just how her mother earned that money. How many letters she wrote whilst he was away in Afghanistan. How many pictures she sent. How supportive she was. How she was always telling him little stories about her and never asked about money. Or I could tell her the truth, which is more likely....................

Oh, I'm miserable today.

Ignore me.

Regular programming will be back soon.

Strangeness

I've hit a period of strangeness, of utter numbness about Rich's death.

It's almost like I can't get my head around it again, but it's not shocking this time. It's almost like he was never here, and then I see something of his and it hurts and I know he was, but my everyday life is so *normal* now, that there is no room for grief as such. I don't know.

I can't explain it. I haven't tried for a couple of days, hence no blogging, but it's there, on the back of my mind, waiting.

Yesterday was 3 months since we Celebrated his life. And I had a parent round last night, upset about her child's diagnosis, wanting to know what it meant for him. I could tell her as much as I knew. However, she also said she bumped into someone in town, just after the Celebration. When she asked her what she'd been up to that day, Mrs F said "Oh, we've just come from Rich's Celebration. It was a bloody good do." Apparently you could see my hand all over it, and it was a "bloody good do" and I did "bloody well."

I read at his Celebration. I read and I sang and I Celebrated my man with all that was in me. AC went to sit with the armourers, and I threw myself into the service. I cried more on Saturday just gone though, and I think that's what this is about in some ways.

Saturday was such a release. We called them home, and surrendered them to God. I cried, but we all cried. I was brave, but we were all brave. I laughed, and most of us laughed.

I think I am starting to re-member. (I must write that blog post)